


Familiar Territory

by Elendiliel



Series: Lightning Strikes [26]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Jedi Purge (Star Wars), Jedi Temple (Star Wars), Lightsaber Construction (Star Wars), Planet Coruscant (Star Wars), Post-Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:41:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29734719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elendiliel/pseuds/Elendiliel
Summary: Shortly after the evacuation of the rebel base on Hoth, Jedi Knight Helli Abbasa takes her friend Luke Skywalker to the ruined Jedi Temple on Coruscant, searching for both useful information and someone to help Luke replace his lost lightsabre. But returning to her old home isn't likely to be a wholly pleasant experience - or entirely unpleasant, either.
Series: Lightning Strikes [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087898





	Familiar Territory

**Author's Note:**

> Towards the end there's a spoiler for the very, very end of Season 4 of _Rebels_. It's not a plot point for either the show or the story, hence my not tagging it, but I felt I should flag it up for completeness.

“I have to say, I didn’t really expect to be back here again,” Helli Abbasa commented to her companion as she resealed the secret entrance they had just used. “I’d half-forgotten the trick to getting that open. But it’s like riding a swoop bike. You never fully forget.”

Luke wasn’t listening. He swept the beam of his torch around the room, a disused storage area at the top of the old Jedi Temple on Coruscant, and she sensed him reaching out with the Force at the same time. He was getting _good_ at that. “You’re sure nobody can tell we’re here?”

“Palpatine never misses the Festival of Light, and Representative Binks would have alerted us to any alteration in that state of affairs. Anakin’s on the other side of the galaxy, and the guys have eyes on all the surviving Inquisitors. We’ve built up quite a surveillance network where they’re concerned. Nobody for parsecs around can sense us.” She always used the Emperor’s and, where she could, his second-in-command’s real names, denying them the respect normally due to the titles Palpatine had stolen or made up.

“And you’re sure that entrance isn’t being watched?”

“Trust me. Only the six of us knew about it. We _made_ it, back when we were fifteen or sixteen, strong enough to keep minor secrets from our masters if we really tried, but young enough to do something so daft. Generations of padawans must have done likewise.” A happy-sad smile touched her lips as memories flooded back. “Nhanta, Ma’ro and I used to sneak out onto the roof to watch the stars and the ships coming and going, and talk freely, away from our teachers and the boys. We loved our brothers, but sometimes girls need some time alone together. I’m sure they did the same.” Mischief started to tint her expression and tone. “One time, Nhanta found a bottle of alcohol from somewhere. Stars, _that_ was a mistake. How we got through lessons the next day, I do _not_ know. I don’t remember what it _was_ , it was that bad.”

Luke had tuned out again, but she kept talking as she led the way downstairs to the areas of the Temple they needed, or wanted, to see. “Then in the war, I used it to slip out for a swift half with my team at 79’s whenever we were grounded for a while. I think I must have sampled every beer they had on offer, and a fair proportion of the spirits. I’ll drink _anything_ , in moderation, though not always the same thing twice.”

Part of her mind submerged in memories, it took her a few heartbeats to register that Luke had stopped. They were on the main levels of the Temple now, and he had seen the distinctive mark of a lightsabre carving through the wall. _That_ hadn’t been there the last time she had been in that room, but she knew when it had been made. Twenty-two standard years before, when every Jedi in the building, from the oldest master to the youngest youngling, who couldn’t get out in time – and there had been so few who had – had been slaughtered. Mostly by the man now calling himself Darth Vader. To her, though, he would always be Anakin Skywalker. Luke’s father.

The bodies of the fallen had received a decent burial, at least. Senator Organa had somehow made a strong enough case in the Senate to overrule the new Emperor without painting a target on himself, ably supported by Senators Mothma and Bonteri and Representative Binks. But evidence of the carnage still remained. Sabre wounds don’t bleed externally, but plasma burns in stone and metal are unmistakable to those with enough experience (“enough”, in this case, being “any”).

Luke reached out to touch this one, perhaps, as she was doing, trying to visualise how it had been made. Which of his fallen father’s victims had put up this particular fight, and which combatant’s blade had done the damage. It was an impossible but irresistible exercise.

“Did you know?” It was the question he had been dying to ask for days, ever since she and her team had come back to the fleet shortly after Hoth. He didn’t need to fill in the rest. He wanted to know whether she had known that Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader were one and the same. As they moved on, she answered him honestly. He deserved it. So did Anakin.

“Only for the last two years. We’d avoided him up until then, but when we were bringing Torrent out, he happened to be visiting. Sensed my presence and came hunting. I held him back long enough for the others to get clear and come back for me.” She’d always been marginally better with the sabre than Anakin. He was brilliant but a bit lazy; she was not quite as talented but committed enough to pester every master she could, including Windu and Fisto, for extra tuition, and spend hours training outside her formal lessons. “There’s enough of his old self left that I could recognise him, up close. I know I should have told you, but it’s not exactly the kind of thing one mentions in casual conversation.”

“Do you know what happened?” He both wanted and really didn’t want the answer. Fortunately, the data she had were sparse enough to satisfy both desires.

“He didn’t say much. Something about needing to protect you and your mother. By the time you were both beyond his reach, he felt he couldn’t turn back. At a guess, I’d say Palpatine convinced him that you or your mother was in danger and only the Dark Side could save you or her. That would catch him, right enough. He loved her so much, and I imagine he loves, or at least loved, you as deeply. Oh, bother.” She had been wandering too far down memory lane, and her feet had made their own choice.

“What’s up?”

“I’ve taken a wrong turning. Must have been on autopilot. We’re in the sleeping quarters. This was my bedroom.” And this whole mission now felt like a bad idea. Her past had been assailing her all night, and now they were wasting time.

“Do you mind if I have a look around? We’re ahead of schedule.” Luke was right, blast him. And he could tell Helli was, in a strange way, enjoying being back where she used to belong.

“Be my guest. I doubt anything’s been touched in over twenty years.” That was nearly true. A nest of rodents had made her mattress their home. At least someone was getting some use out of the thing. But without a larger occupant, there was remarkably little dust around. Helli’s chest of drawers looked almost as it had when she finished packing for that sabotage mission that had gone so spectacularly sideways. It and her bed were the only furniture in the room. This had been where she slept and dressed, not where she lived, especially in the war.

Maybe her spare clothes were still wearable. She pulled out the drawers, one at a time, transferring the contents to her pack. Training gear, old but better quality and a better fit than what she’d been wearing since the Purge, or they had been. Another set of working robes, and her best ones, barely worn. Since passing her trials she had spent so little time in the Temple. Socks and other necessities. The mat, blocks, bolster and weights she used for her own exercise regime – again, better than the improvised ones with which she had put up for two decades. As she cleared the last few things from the bottom drawer, her careless hand dislodged the loose panel that concealed the secret compartment where she kept certain items some of the stricter masters would _not_ have been happy that she had.

“Are those holos?” Luke was peering over her shoulder as she picked up the stack of images. “How old were you then?”

“Twelve.” The top picture was of her and her master, the day she became his apprentice. She explained this to Luke. He already knew what had happened to her teacher, and didn’t bring it up, but asked, “What are the others?”

She couldn’t think of any excuse not to show him. Her padawan friends – Kori the valorous, Nhanta the brilliant, Vuda the skilful, Ma’ro the compassionate, and Nahdar the daring. She had been Helli the strong – or Helli the stubborn, according to her mood. Lightning Squadron, whom he already knew. And her and her men with the Bad Batch. He was less interested in the other clones than in her Jedi friends, but before he could ask her about them, she pre-empted him with, “Let’s keep moving, shall we? We do have jobs to do.”

He trailed after her as she led the way – trying to get it right this time – towards the places they needed. A few corridors in, he couldn’t hold his tongue any longer. “What happened to your friends?”

Having made up her mind to be honest, she couldn’t stop that now, however much it hurt. “Nahdar was murdered by General Grievous in the war. Kori was shot in the back by one of his own men on Kashyyyk when Order 66 was declared. He always led from the front, like Anakin and me. Like so many of us. Our men respected us for it – which is no small thing for a CO – but it made us such good targets. Nhanta was coordinating the mopping-up operation on Yerbana. She was excellent at that, but so focused on her job, I don’t expect she even noticed her second-in-command’s programming activating until it was too late. Vuda was leading the air support above Saleucami when his wingmen were turned against him. Apparently he led them quite a dance, but he’d served with those men too long to be able to hurt them. Ma’ro was on a cruiser to Ryloth. Made it to an escape pod, and kept running until an Inquisitor caught up with her, a year or two later. I didn’t know for a decade. If she’d reached out to me, or vice versa…” She shook off the speculation. “Well, no point worrying about that now. As long as I remember them, as long as the Force guides us, they won’t really be gone.”

They had reached their first target. The library. Luke, for once, had absolutely nothing to say. Had he seen so many books in one place before? Helli doubted it. She kept talking, her tongue starting to run away with her. “Oh, I used to spend _hours_ in here. Practically _lived_ in here when my trials were coming up, if I wasn’t in the training hall. It worried my master no end, and even Master Nu started to show signs of concern. She was the librarian. Bit of a krayt dragon if you crossed her, but great fun if you were on her good side.”

Luke still said nothing, but followed her in a daze towards the holocron vault. She showed him how to open it, and how to load a holocron with all the information he thought he might need or want. Which was pretty much everything. That was when she realised he was thinking beyond the war, beyond the fall of the Empire and the Sith, whenever they might accomplish that. He was looking to the horizon, to the re-establishment of the Republic and, more importantly, the Order. How very like Anakin. And the trouble with that kind of horizon thinking is that one tends to trip on unseen obstacles. All the same, she approved. _Jocasta, if only you could be here now_. In a sense, as Helli had told Luke, she was.

One task down, one to go. Their path now led to a workshop on a lower floor. Helli didn’t know that area so well. When she had done what Luke needed to do, it had been on board the _Crucible_ , returning from Ilum with her friends. But she knew in theory, and had confirmed while Luke was loading data onto his holocron, that the person they required lived down there between Gatherings. With a bit of luck, he was still there.

At first, luck did not appear to be with them. The workshop was a mess. Someone, or perhaps several someones, had tried to get in uninvited, and all sorts of defence mechanisms had activated. They had not interacted well with the visitors, or one another. It took Luke and Helli’s combined strength to clear the worst of the rubble and debris, looking for the one they had come so far to see.

It was Luke who saw him first. Part of a silver-plated mechanical leg, just visible in a shadowed corner. Their torches dispelled the shadows, revealing a badly damaged but recognisable Class IV architect droid, long since reduced to low power mode but hopefully with all his key systems intact beneath the tarnish. Professor Huyang.

“We need to get him charged up.” Both Jedi reacted as they would to an injured organic, though they didn’t need to take quite as much care over moving the android to his charge port, previously unreachable in the structural chaos. Droids are rather more robust, but still deserve respect. It didn’t take long for Huyang to regain sensory functions. He recognised Helli straight away. For once, she hadn’t disguised herself.

“Young Abbasa, isn’t it? Blue-green dual blade, durasteel and copper, with a carbon fibre and silicone grip, and Alban markings in among the more traditional ones. Not a sabre I’ll forget in a hurry, even if I could forget without a memory wipe. And who might you be, young man?” This, of course, was to Luke.

“Luke Skywalker. You’re Professor Huyang, aren’t you? It’s an honour to meet you.”

“Pleased to meet you. Skywalker? Any relation to Anakin?”

“He was my father.” Luke was getting good at controlling his external emotions. The turmoil that thoughts of his father now triggered was only evident to Helli.

“Yes, I see the resemblance. A brilliant young man, but so careless with his sabres. And if you require my professional expertise despite your clear familiarity with the Force, I can only assume that you take after him in that respect. By the way, how long has it been since those rude gentlemen tried to force their way in here?”

“Twenty-two years, standard. And yes, Luke does need your help. He’s been using Anakin’s old sabre up until now, but he lost it a few weeks ago. And nobody knows more about constructing sabres than you.” Helli put as much flattery in her tone as she dared. She remembered that the old droid’s craftsperson’s pride could run away with him sometimes.

“That long? That explains why none of my limbs seem to be responding. If you two could oblige me with some oil, I will be only too happy to assist you. I presume you have a crystal.”

Luke did have a kyber crystal, all the way from Ilum. Helli had taken him there, as Master Yoda had once taken her and her friends, to be tested and taught as all younglings were. Like her, he had had the trial of patience, a lake that only froze enough to support the seeker’s weight when their time was nearly up. He retold the story to fill the silence as he and Helli restored Huyang to something approaching working order and began, under his direction, to find the components they needed.

Once that was done, the two Jedi knelt in meditation pose in the only clear area of floor and Huyang talked Luke through constructing his sabre. Luke found the process as frustrating as she had, and Huyang was struggling to adjust to a pupil who had grown up away from the Temple. At one stage, sensing that Luke was nearing a breaking point, she had to intervene, reminding him why this was so important, and adding that she had been the last in her Gathering group to finish her sabre. “It will happen, as the Force wills it. Trust it, trust the Professor, and trust yourself.”

It worked. A matter of minutes later, all the pieces slotted together, and Huyang inspected the finished sabre, declaring it fully functional. Helli shared Luke’s exhilaration at finally having a lightsabre of his own again, but didn’t let it distract her from their timetable. They had only just enough time to climb back to the roof for their pickup.

“Only just” was exactly the right phrase. Huyang wanted to come too, and insisted on bringing some of his tools, the ones he couldn’t find or build elsewhere. She had allowed for that in her planning, thank goodness. They didn’t want to keep Hera Syndulla waiting. She was none too happy about being a taxi service, but the _Ghost_ was the only ship that could beat Coruscant’s planetary defences, with the exception of the _Millennium Falcon_ , which was needed elsewhere. And as the longstanding partner (in multiple senses) of a Jedi, mother of his son, and heart-mother of his apprentice, she understood about the strange necessities of their lives. Even so, Helli set a fast pace on the way up to the secret entrance, only allowing herself a little brain-space to continue to enjoy being back in what had once been such familiar territory. Maybe, one day, it would be so again. Force willing.


End file.
